Morning After
by nakaleteme
Summary: Ianto gets a bittersweet surprise the morning after an eventful night. Jack/Ianto


**No spoilers.**  
_Rating: PG-13 (at most)_  
Just BL and refrence to sex.

**Disclaimer:** Jack and Ianto belong to the brilliant Russell T Davis. If anyone is willing to sell them, though, I will be the first bidder. Story concept is belonging to I.

Thank you to my wonderful beta A Lucky Stone!

--

Sunlight filtered through a small flat, illuminating the edges of a couch, a table, a few chairs, and other furniture that was strategically placed throughout the space

Sunlight filtered through a small flat, illuminating the edges of a couch, a table, a few chairs, and other furniture that was strategically placed throughout the space. Clean plates and dishes glistened on a small stretch of counter in the area that served as a kitchen, the icebox purring softly. On the floor directly inside of the front door, two coats lay in a crumpled heap. A few feet away from that, a blue dress shirt was strewn over an umbrella rack, a similar pink shirt flung carelessly over the television nearby. Further into the flat, a pair of black slacks had been flung on top of the icebox. In the bathroom, another pair of pants had been thrown over the rim of a clawfoot bath. And at the foot of a large bed, two pairs of shoes and two guns lay in a shiny pile of leather and steel.

As the sun rose, the light started to creep between the thin lines of the bedroom blinds. White sunlight streamed through the breaks, hitting Ianto Jones in the eye with dotted patterns. The Welshman blinked as he slowly woke, mentally cursing a certain captain's inability to properly close the blinds in moments of passion. He reached out a hand in a fake attempt to reach the window, falling short by a few yards. His eyelids slid closed again as he pulled his arm back under the covers and snuggled deeper into his bed.

Next to him, a warm body stirred and rolled over, wrapping an arm around Ianto's waist and sighing into his brown hair. Ianto's eyes flew open as he blinked in astonishment. Readjusting himself carefully as to not wake the other, he looked over his shoulder and found himself staring straight into the face of one Captain Jack Harkness. Ianto rotated back to gaze at the window, thinking quickly.

"Morning, handsome."

Ianto took a deep breath, turning around completely to face Jack while remaining in his arms.

"G-Good morning," he replied in an unsteady version of his Welsh accent. "Not to be rude, but… why are you still here?"

Jack raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes confused.

"Am I not allowed to enjoy the morning after sex?"

Ianto looked to the side, the contact of their bare skin suddenly more noticeable. He was also instantly aware of his arms and inability to find a proper place to put them. Not at his sides: Jack's arms were still wrapped around his waist. Not under his head: that would partially block his view of Jack and usually numbed his fingers unpleasantly. And not around Jack. For some reason, it didn't feel like he should be embracing the American.

"Ianto?" Jack was looking at him with concern. "Should I leave?"

Ianto shook his head after a moment of hesitation, reestablishing eye contact after another beat.

"Just… Uh, one moment."

He returned to his thoughts. Jack. In his bed. Still. This was something he hadn't planned for or expected to happen soon if ever. His understanding had been that they were friends. Just friends. With benefits, of course. Maybe it was more of a boss and secretary relationship, now that he thought about it. He sighed softly, inaudibly, before parting his lips to speak.

"If there's a problem, I can leave. Especially if that problem is a girlfriend."

"Jack, I know it's hard to believe, but I'm incredibly single," Ianto confessed sarcastically. "Can I just… talk? And you just listen?"

"Of course. I'm king of listening. Emperor, even. I can listen for hours without saying a single word or thinking a single thought that doesn't have to do with what I'm listening to—"

"And I'm sure you have a lot more to say on the matter."

Ianto gave him a meaningful look. Jack pretended to zip his lips, locking an imaginary lock and throwing the key over the edge of the bed.

"So…It's just a little out of your style to still be here after we spend the night together. I'm used to waking up alone."

Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Ianto intercepted the words by touching a finger to the captain's lips.

"I'm used to it. I'm not opposed to it. But if you start… if you stay for the mornings, I might start thinking this is something more than it really is."

"And what do you think it really is?" Jack asked softly before Ianto could stop him.

"Just… sex, actually. Lust. Nothing more. Isn't that what it is?"

"Well it is sex, yes, but I don't have any problems saying I feel more than just lust for you."

Raising his hand, Jack ran his hand down Ianto's jawline and traced the Welshman's bottom lip with a thumb.

"I love you, Ianto. I don't have it off with everyone I like, despite the picture I may have painted during the last few years."

He smiled sheepishly, the expression foreign to his normally confident face.

"Is that a confession, Jack?" Ianto asked, blushing brightly at the bluntness of his words.

"It's a confession if you love me back. If not, then it's just an embarrassment."

Ianto couldn't help but laugh, his lips parting to show white teeth.

"I guess it is a confession, then."

--

Later, they lay entangled on the bed, sweat glistening on their skin as they waited for their breathing to calm down. The sex had started slow and deliberate, the pair synchronized in every motion. It had soon become rough and fervent, both the pace and the breath quickening with each passing minute. Except this time, the passion had been different, more intimate. The object was no longer about lust or satiating their sexual appetite. This passion was a way to convey a feeling of love. Of need. Of absolute trust. As Jack had pushed inside of Ianto, he hadn't felt invaded but connected. The heat had been blinding.

His breathing finally even again, Ianto opened his eyes and looked up into those of his lover. His lover. Not boss. Not superior. Not fuck-buddy. Lover. The word had such a sweet taste, sliding around his pleasure-high mind, that he said it aloud.

"Lover."

"Yes?" Jack replied, smiling as he rolled off Ianto and onto the bed next to him.

The two lay in silence a few minutes longer, observing and touching each other with new eyes and fingertips. Jack skimmed his strangely callused but soft hands over Ianto's skin, as if feeling him for the first time. The Welshman blushed and closed his eyes as the intimate little act was performed, not opening them again until he felt Jack take a firm hold of his waist and pull him closer.

"Want to know a secret?"

"Oh god, you're not pregnant, are you?"

"Nope. Once was enough."

He chuckled lightly before leaning forward, nuzzling into Ianto's hair before whispering into his ear.

"I love you, Ianto Jones."

"I love you, too, Jack," he replied without hesitation.

Ianto closed his eyes in contentment. A moment later, he felt Jack slide out of bed, leaving the sheets cold and empty. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching his lover's deliciously naked body walk through the door and toward the kitchen.

"Coffee or tea?"

Ianto blinked, confused.

"Sorry? Are you planning on making it this time?"

He could hear Jack's hearty laughter echoing around the small flat.

"Yes, tea boy, that's what lovers do."

Laying back in bed, Ianto smiled brightly, curling his toes in lazy bliss.

That's what lovers do. Love.


End file.
